


High Strung

by wintertea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: LMAO, M/M, Music AU, Oneshot, guitar au, i actually liked this one, its kinda romancey?, kinda trash tbhhh, they play guitar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:02:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintertea/pseuds/wintertea
Summary: Keith and Lance had never really gotten along, despite hanging out in the same old shack with mutual friends for so long. It's been years since Keith last picked up an instrument. However, when Lance starts helping Keith get back into guitar, their whole world fills with beautiful music- and a bond unlike they'd ever been able to make before.





	

_      At the tip of a small town, near the edge of vast woods, there is a wooden shack in which five kids built, and subsequently carved their names. _

     Within the shack, everybody would meet up on the last day of each week to enjoy themselves and their youth hood, despite the fact that some of them were well over the age considered “youth.” However, when somebody is having a good time, it doesn’t often matter how old they are. They still may be childish at heart.

     Hunk, the loudest and most childish by far, started the group’s event night. His voice was loud when he said, “Everybody, get your snacks out. We’re playin’ war for real food, people!” He then got quieter, and looked over at Pidge, the youngest, and pried. “And if I catch any of y’all  _ cheating, _ I’m going to have to confiscate your cards.”

     “Don’t look at me like that,” Pidge retorted, putting their hands over their heart as if they were slightly offended.

     Hunk laughed. “If you’re playing, pick a seat.” Following his comment, everyone besides Lance, who was sure he’d lose, slipped into seats and started demanding cards. Hunk looked over at Lance, and asked, “Hey, are you playing this round?”

     “No way! I’m not losing my gummy worms this week. I’ll just watch over and make sure nobody is cheating.” He glanced over at Pidge, who rolled their eyes and looked back over at Hunk. Lance had relatively good eyes, and he got no greater satisfaction than exposing his friends, especially if it was Shiro. He’d seen his eyes wander while people weren’t paying attention, and that was surprising given his level of maturity over the others.

     Let the game begin.

                +++

     The whole competition was considerably intense, but unsurprisingly, the victory, and the snacks were handed to Pidge at the end of the evening. Hunk insisted that Pidge had cheated. Nobody could prove it though, and Lance didn’t see anything wrong. A win was, in the end, a win. The rest of the team paid up.

     “Ah, I can’t believe they won  _ again,”  _ Shiro said, huffing. “I had my hopes up too. How is it that Pidge always has the lucky cards?”

     “I just know how to shuffle really,  _ really,  _ well,” Pidge said, gathering all of the bags of chips and boxes of candy from the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll share. Shiro, you really shouldn’t bet all of your snacks. I don’t understand why you do that all the time.” Everybody laughed. Pidge laid out snacks, and everybody engaged in conversation. Even Keith, the newest to the group, and quite considerably the quietest, pitched in a little. It was a good evening.

     It had gotten late. The moon was shining bright over their dimly lit wooden shack, and small animals could be seen sniffing around outside. The space surrounding them was silent, soft, only broken by the light and noise within the group’s home-away-from-home.

     “Oh god, it’s almost eleven o’ clock,” Shiro said, standing and breaking the chatter, “I’ve got tons of housework to do. Plus, my girlfriend is expecting me to wake up early… I’m extremely irresponsible.”

     “Eleven?!” Keith jumped up from his seat. “I lost track of time! I need to go back before my paper is due at 11:59. Sorry guys, I can’t walk back with you. I have to go.” With that, Keith ran out of the place, leaving the door open behind him. 

     Hunk stepped over to the couch near the game table, and picked up a small black bag filled with various items. “Man, he left so quickly that he forgot to bring his stuff with him. Well, he can get it tomorrow, I suppose.”

     “Well, the poor kid’s only seventeen and already lives on his own,” Shiro stated, standing by the door. “I can imagine that he’s pretty busy. And I’m sure he’s gotta be punctual.”

     “He doesn’t even live in the dorms,” Pidge said, “it’s not practical. But somehow… He does it.”

     Everybody started piling out of the room, and hunk followed last, closing and locking the door behind him. Walking home would be just a little less exciting without Keith. Too bad.

     The next morning, through the long woods, a boy clad in a bright red jacket and white shorts made his way toward the shack. Keith was in such a rush that he’d completely forgotten his bag! It was a good thing that the shack was only a mile back.

     He remembered how to get there by heart. Everybody that went there did. Enter the woods through a tunnel of evergreen trees, then, turn right at the lichen-covered rock. Go straight. Pass over the crystal blue river where, if you were lucky, you may see tiny pollywogs splashing and swimming through. It really was a great place to build a clubhouse sort of thing. It was peaceful, and one could split their introversion and extroversion when they needed. 

     As Keith got within thirty feet from the house, he started hearing a soft, rhythmic noise throughout the area. Was somebody… playing the ukulele? Keith picked up his pace as he walked over to the shack, and the closer he got, the louder the music was. It was very lovely. When he got there he could hear singing, and was hazily able to make out lyrics.

     “ _ Over a meadow, below the trees, One hundred butterflies, doing as they please.” _

_      What. _ Keith stepped inside, nobody was there.

     “ _ Through the bright city, soaring the seas, One hundred butterflies, doing as they please.” _

     Keith followed to the back of the shack, where the back door was slightly opened, and peeked out. He couldn’t tell who was outside, and couldn’t tell who was singing either. 

_      “Out through the mountains, and onto the shore… Feeding on happiness, is a hundred more.” _

     Keith didn’t want to open the door, but he did find interest in listening. He didn’t really get it, but it was very melodic and soothing. He tapped his toes along. While he was listening, he lost his balance a little, and the back door squeaked open. At the noise, Keith regained his balance, and stared at the now silent, slightly confused musician.

     “Lance?”

     “Uh, Keith? I’m sorry but, why are you here?” Lance asked, tensing his shoulders in slight discomfort.

     Keith shook his head and stuttered out, “O-Oh, I just needed to get my bag.” He pointed behind him at the couch. “Um, I uh, left it here.”

     “Is that so? I hoped you’d remember to come get it. Although, I’m not so sure why you were by the door when the couch is on the other side of the room.” Lance brushed his pants off and sat up slightly. 

     “Ah well, I was wondering where the noise was coming from.” Keith cleared his throat. “Um, your voice is good, but your rhythm is off.” He couldn’t think of anything to clear the awkward atmosphere. “a-and your position could be much better.”

     “And… you’re interested because why?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow.

     Keith glared and shook his head. “I’m not interested in anything! I just came out to tell you that you sound mediocre.”

     “Oh, is that so? You play ukulele too?”

     “Guitar, but it’s similar.” Keith came out to the deck and sat down next to Lance. 

     “Oh, I brought my guitar too. Since you know oh so much about music, why don’t you come teach me something, oh great one?” Lance sneered, picking up a large black case from the left of him. “The spotlight’s all yours.”

     Keith opened the case and pulled out a large, green guitar covered in stickers with various celebrities whom he did not know. Keith was not as good at guitar as he made himself out to be, but he had to do  _ something. _

     “I don’t know what to play,” Keith said nervously, trying to, in the back of his head, find a song pleasing to the ear, yet easy to play.

     “I don’t care what you play. Just do something!” Lance turned around to look at an obviously nervous, sweating Keith. “You look like you’re about to die. You all right?”

     “No, I’m fine.” Keith began playing, roughly at first, then finally tuning up a bit. He didn’t sing though, as he had no intentions of sharing his voice. Lance noticed that he was missing notes or playing them incorrectly. His hands, too, were in all the wrong positions. Keith stopped in the middle.

     “I’m sorry,” Keith said, slipping the guitar straps off of him, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

     Lance laughed at this. “So you  _ are _ all talk! Ha. I knew you were bluffing.”

     Keith sighed, and then stated in an angry tone, “It’s not my fault. I’ve been too busy; I don’t have time to practice! It’s not always easy, you know. I work five days a week.”

     “You have after work,” Lance said, “And Saturdays and Sundays you don’t have anything!”

     “I don’t have the money to do lessons, and most of them require a car to get to anyway. I don’t have the money for that, either.”

     “Well,” Lance started, holding out the word for an excessive amount of time, “why don’t you start practicing with me? I do it every morning before I log into online college, but I can switch to afternoons or evenings to help you out.” His expression became smug as he leaned back a little. “I have no problem helping a beginner.”

     “Well, I would like to polish up my skills… but are you sure you’d be fine switching? After all, there’s no reason to just  _ start _ teaching me. Especially considering how we aren’t super cooperative, compared to the others, anyway.”

     “Nah, it’ll be fun. Just think,  _ me _ , teaching  _ Keith. _ That’ll be a change of events.”

     Keith frowned. “What do you mean by that? Is that an insult?”

     “I mean, isn’t it funny?” Lance asked, sneering a bit. “Me, teaching you. You’re usually the one whose skills surpass mine. It’s different, to say the least.” Lance stood up. “Well, it’s settled then. You’re officially my disciple! I’ll be leaving my things here.”

     “What? I haven’t even agreed yet! Why would you leave your stuff here?”

     “I’ll come tomorrow evening, so it’s less of a trip. I’ll just slip ‘em under the deck.” He did exactly that.

     “If I haven’t confirmed my intentions, how do you know I won’t skip out?” Keith sneered, bringing a hand to his hip. 

     Lance grinned. “You won’t.” 

     The next evening, Lance set out all of his gear beside him, and started strumming a simple tune on the guitar as a warm up. He didn’t see Keith yet, but he’d be there until it was dark. The evening scenery was lovely- perfect for a song. For Lance, the best way to get in the musical mood was to take in the senses of a beautiful, nature surrounded setting. Autumn leaves fluttered down upon the house like butterflies in the forest. Chilly, swift, evening air pierced through his skin, causing slight chills to spread across his body. Birds were cuddling in their nests, while other animals furiously searched for winter necessities. To this, he could play.

     Lance strummed a few more chords on his guitar, slowly getting into song. He played through some songs he came up with himself, ultimately ending up playing what meant the most to him at the moment. It was at this time when Keith arrived to the deck, holding a dirty and soiled, grey guitar case. 

     “Evening, Lance. I’m going to want to leave in around two hours, at seven. What are you playing?”

     Lance shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just been making up stuff as I go along. It helps me process and write what I want to. Hey, that’s a good first lesson.”

     He ignored Lance’s statement. “Yesterday I was out of practice. I can play today, I promise.”

     “Don’t worry.” Lance turned to Keith. “Just do what I do- find a setting that’s dear to you. Find inspiration.” He stretched his arms out wide. “This is what inspires me.”

     Keith pulled out his guitar. “I didn’t really get your song yesterday. Maybe it’s because I walked in on the middle of it, but all you talked about were butterflies.” He smirked. “I didn’t know you were interested in them.”

     “No,” Lance said, a disgruntled look forming on his face, “That’s ‘cause you stopped me in the middle of it. You see, the next part is…” He played a few parts, and then shifted into a melody. 

_      "Ever since I was only little, stuck in the body of a caterpillar, glued to the ground. Now I’m big and can fly, with ninety-nine like me, soaring through the sky.” _

     It clicked. Keith snapped his fingers. “Oh! I get it. Like, self-discovery?”

     “Ding ding ding. That just happens to be something that matters to me. I encourage you to find what matters to you too, Keith. That’ll help…” Lance giggled a bit. “Brush up your skills, if you will.” 

     Keith stuck out his tongue, and he and Lance continued playing, until the sky got dim and the owls took over the natural evening harmony. By the end of the day, it seemed that Keith learned quite a bit about music and it’s relation to life, although, it was only the first lesson. He had a lot more to discover.

     Days passed like this, frequently. Keith enjoyed learning, although, Lance learned a bit too. They had noticed a change in attitude; they were nicer to each other and bickered a little less. It was probably for the best, though, becoming closer friends. Overall, they practiced every day, and learned new things each time. 

     Two weeks had passed since that Monday evening. Clouds painted the sky, and the weather had gotten ultimately chillier since the first lesson. Trees were almost completely stripped of their leaves, besides tough, spiky evergreens that dotted the woods. Lance had gotten to the shack first, followed by Keith in less than ten minutes.

     “Lance, today I’m going to need to cut our session a little short,” Keith started as soon as he got to the deck, “I promised my boss I would help him with loosening soil today.”

     “Actually,” Lance replied, setting his guitar down lightly. “I might have accidentally snapped a string, and stupid me didn’t bring any backups. It’s probably best that we don’t have a long lesson anyway.”

     Keith sighed a breath of relief. “That’s good actually, I’ve been a little anxious about playing today. It’s been a rough week. I’m fine with just sitting down.”

     Lance pointed towards a group of purple cans. “Grape soda?”

     “Sure.” Keith sat down next to him, and they both grabbed a can. 

     “So,” Lance paused and took a sip. “Rough week, whatchya’ mean?”

     “Just, a lot of work. No inspiration. I have a big test coming up, too. My head hurts, and I don’t really know why.” 

     “Well, what have you been thinking about while writing your songs?” Lance was curious. “Or, more importantly, what have you been singing about?”

     “I dunno,” Keith took a sip. “Nature, I guess.  I haven’t done any singing, even alone.”

     “No, no, no.” Lance held out his hand. “Imagine that… in the hand you use to strum, your thoughts, feelings, and desires pour out of the top. Not everybody’s is going to be the same, Keith! Yours won’t be like mine. I like nature, so I sing when I’m around a natural setting. But…” Lance looked down at his knees. “I don’t always sing about nature. To me, music isn’t just about that. To me, music is about loving things. It’s about happiness, sadness, curiosity. It’s about family, friends, and life. I sing about what makes me gleeful, and what makes me sorrowful because that _ means  _ something to me. And nature just so happens to bring those feelings out the most.  So, the question is, what does music mean to you, Keith? What do you feel, see,  _ hear  _ when you play your music?”

     Keith lowered his can below his lips, and looked out over to the stream in thought. “Music is… to me… It’s about... thankfulness.”

     Lance cracked a smile. “Go on.”

     “It’s about being thankful for what you have, and being thankful for who you are. Music is, to me, opening up your heart. Thinking about the past and seeing that I’ve come far. It’s about living life in the moment, and not caring about the future.” Keith picked up his guitar.

     “Yeah!”

     “It’s about your life. Your past life, your current life, your future life, what lies ahead and what’s making life good. About being different but… being smart.” He started playing, slowly tapping into different parts and pieces of his own tune, and then smoothed into a slowed down version of a song Lance had never heard before. He listened intently, and it was actually, finally, and ultimately  _ good.  _ The best he had heard Keith play.

_      And for the first time since they started, he sang. _

     Once Keith finished the song, Lance clasped his hands together. “That was amazing! I’m actually impressed.

     Keith sniffed. “Thank you.”

     “Yeah! Although,” Lance said and then paused, looking at Keith’s face intently. “Are you okay? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

     “Excuse me?”

     "Keith, you’re crying.”

     Keith raised the tips of his fingers just above his cheekbone, feeling light, wet tears that were streaming down his face. He froze there for a second, processing what was happening, before wiping them up furiously with the back of his hands.

     “Hey,” Lance said. “Is everything okay? You got really upset.”

     “No um,” Keith shook his head and laughed nervously. “I’m fine, I just… really miss my family and, well, that brought back memories. It’s weird.”

     “Ah well, you can always visit your family, right? I’m sure somebody could give you a ride.” Lance put his hand on Keith’s back as a form of support.

     “Lance, no,” he said, shaking his head.

     Lance was totally oblivious. “What? Does it cost too much money? Are they far away? Because, you know that the group is here to help and-“

     Keith turned around and looked straight into Lance’s eyes. “Lance… _ No. _ ”

     Lance looked away pensively, and took a split second to process everything before it clicked. “Wait- oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m really, really sorry I-“ Lance put his hand on the back of his neck. “I fucked up, I didn’t know I’m-“

     “No, no, it’s okay. It was a long time ago. I was young when they died, so it’s fine.”

     “Wait, you’ve been on your own for  _ how long?” _

     “Well, thirteen-“

     Lance cut him off worriedly. “Thirteen? I didn’t even know! I always thought that- for college you-” He stared at the ground angrily. “You really were younger.”

     “Let me finish! I’ve been orphaned since thirteen years old, and-“ Keith shook his head and laughed. “God, I can’t believe you, out of everyone in the group, are the one I’m telling this to.” 

     “I never knew…”

     “Nobody did! Not even Shiro found out. So don’t tell anybody. But…” Keith sighed. “I’ve been on my own since thirteen, yes. I moved around foster care a bit, and then halfway through, I was transported to the facility for ‘problematic’ kids- I was one of their more ‘behaviorally inept’ ones. I had a… hard time in the foster houses. They always found me running away. They couldn’t keep me in the facility for long, though.  I officially ran away by fifteen and called up Shiro, who let me crash.”

     “What did you tell him?”

     “Just that I was having a hard time and needed some air during my senior year. I graduated two years early, just so I could get on my own faster. So, here I am, seventeen and about to start my sophomore year of college.

     “God, I always just thought that… you lived with your parents until you met Shiro at college.”

     “No, Shiro was a friend of mine since I was a kid. He moved away to this town, and never knew what happened. I don’t want him to know. I never do.”

     “Huh, well. I never would have thought. You do so much- work your own job, live in your own space. You have a bunch of classes  _ and  _ you’re only seventeen. It must be difficult.”

     “Well,” Keith started, “that’s what music’s for, right? Like I said, reminiscing about the past is great and all, but it makes you really appreciate what you already have.”

     “I guess you’re right,” Lance replied.

     Keith decided to lie down, and look at the evening sky. “You know, I used to be really good at my instrument. I used to play so well.” He paused. “However, when I heard the news about the crash, I felt like I had no motivation left. I kept playing less and less, and it all became too tiring for me to deal with.” He took a deep breath. “So, I stopped. I wanted to start again when I got older, but I never had the time. I Never had the resources. And I never had anybody to hear me, so I began losing skill. Now, I can’t even play more than two songs, and I mess those up too. One day I…” He stopped.

     “One day you-?” Lance questioned.

     “I want to play well again.”

     Lance stayed quiet for a second. He looked over at Keith, who was still staring up at the sky. “I want to help you with that. I want to hear your full potential.”

     “Thank you. That’s a good thought.”

     “I’ll do my best. Plus, I have to admit, I have a really good time playing guitar with you. Not to be selfish, but I’m enjoying it, too.

     “That’s not selfish!” Keith said, his voice getting a bit louder. “It’s what I want. After all, like you said, you can’t make music in an environment where you don’t want to, right?”

     “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He smiled slightly.

     “Man, it’s really good to get that off of my chest.”

     Lance laid down next to him. “Yeah?”

     “Yeah. I never thought it’d be you that I told. Although, I guess it makes sense.”

     “How so?”

     “Well, Shiro would feel bad, and worry. Hunk wouldn’t know what to do with that information, since he’s not super close to me, and Pidge is a child. I also thought it’d be super weird to talk to you, but it actually wasn’t. Being friendly wasn’t a mistake after all. So uh… thanks.”

     “Thanks?”

     “You know, for listenin’.” 

     Lance and Keith were silent for a short amount of time. They just lay there, thinking, breathing, Keith with his guitar positioned firmly on his stomach. They didn’t get up, didn’t move, and didn’t talk. It was meditative and tranquil.

     Lance finally spoke. “Well, that’s that then, right?” He smiled. “It’s good you talked about that. It’ll only help your mind, body, and spirit better when you play, don’t you think?”

     Keith chuckled. “Yeah, I guess.”

     “Awesome! So, I brought a bunch of snacks for the walk home, but I think I’ll just share them with you. And I’ll bring more next time!”

     Keith frowned. “Oh, Lance, you don’t have to do that. It’s not necessary.”

     “No, I’m sure I have to.” Lance patted his back. “It’s an accomplishment. Plus, snacks always help me when I’m sad, and I totally lost poker to Pidge two days ago, so… I think we deserve it. You and I make a great team. So let’s celebrate that!”

     In the midst of an autumn forest, they laughed, worrying about life a little less.

                +++

     The next Saturday, there was a storm. Thunder crashed down, and lightning lit the sky brutally. Rain, although avid, only had weary attempts to fill the streets of a city like theirs. The “flood,” or so it was called, died down in about an hour after the storm. Still though, it raged on through the night, and there was no sign of stopping in time for the group to meet up, so they did not. 

     Sunday morning, it was still drizzling a little, and it only stopped in the afternoon. Lance, who was a bit wary about the weather, decided to wait until the evening before he went to practice his music. He tried to call Keith to tell him, beforehand, but it only went to the voicemail of the farm that Keith had been working and living at. Keith usually only came in the evening anyway, so Lance decided not to worry. He probably wouldn’t come after a storm like that anyway.

     By evening, Lance was already anticipating his practice. He knew it would be a tad bit lonely working without Keith, but it would be okay. He had the rain, the sun, and the chill of mid-Autumn.

     Lance arrived at the site. He knew it would be a bit dull, and the top of the shack was completely stained with rainwater. It was probably time to cover it with tarps, since incoming winter in his town meant rain and more rain. Snow was not going to be a problem though.

     Lance stepped inside, and set down his guitar. He noticed that the back door was open, so he went to the back to close it. Lovely timing, because sitting on the deck with their back toward the wall of the house was Keith. What was he doing there when the weather was so bad? Upon closer inspection, Lance noticed something peculiar.

_      He was sleeping. _

     Lance tensed up. Was he really asleep? How long had he been out? It was raining earlier! Lance patted Keith’s head, and then his clothes. “ _ Dry,”  _ he thought,  _ “Must’ve came after the rain. Lucky guy.” _

     He was conflicted as to what to do. Would he wake him up? No, he’d probably been really tired and needed a nap. Would he leave? No, that was out of the question. Call Shiro? No, Shiro was out at work. 

     In the end, Lance decided ultimately that he’d bring Keith inside. He picked the boy up- he was surprisingly light- and set him on the battered up game couch. He found the battery powered alarm that stayed on the side table by the couch. Lance was going to wake him up in about an hour, six o’ clock, however, while he was going back to the back door to close it, he noticed something. Keith’s guitar was on the deck, sitting against the wall. Lance rushed back over to the couch and looked at Keith’s hands, which were completely raw.

_      Had he been playing guitar? _

     No, Lance couldn’t wake that poor boy up. A little sleep couldn’t hurt, right? It was Keith’s day off, anyway. So he let him sleep. Plus, Lance knew exactly what time he needed to be up for work, which was around 8, so he set the clock for 6:00 AM. He’d probably wake up earlier than that, but it didn’t really matter. Sleep is sleep.

     Leaving him there wasn’t an option, so Lance stayed inside with his guitar for around an hour, before drifting off himself. Naps were okay, right? Nobody would be able to find the shack anyway, except maybe the rest of the group. He went to the couch opposite of Keith, and lied down. Peaceful sleep time awaited. Worry less, sing more…

     It was twelve o’ clock AM when the thunder first hit. It woke Keith right up, and he was, frightened, to say the least. He awoke with a fright. He looked around the room, unable to see anything, and only hearing the patting of rain against the ceiling.

     The second crash of thunder sounded, and that’s when Lance woke up. He gasped when he awoke, which scared Keith even more.

     “Who are you? Who are you and what do you want from me?” Keith asked, his back to the back of the couch.

     “Don’t worry, it’s just me,” Lance replied, “it’s Lance, you’re in the shack. It’s midnight.”

     Keith began to panic. “Midnight? I’m supposed to be home right now I- I told my boss I was leaving to go practice with some friends! I lied… I needed to help with dinner and everything- I live there! If I get fired, I won’t have anywhere to stay- oh what if they think I’m dead!”

     “Don’t worry about it. You’re reading too much into it. He probably thinks you’re out at a sleepover or something. It’s a small town; somebody would’ve noticed, and come to the shack by now. Lance felt his way around the room to the lamp near the door, and turned it on. “The battery lamp is still working, see? I’ll set it on the table.”

     Keith, who was visibly tense, started to slowly relax his shoulders. “Thanks. I’m not fond of the dark, especially when there is noise. I want to go home, and I know I’m not going to be able to sleep like this.”

     “We can’t go home now,” Lance said, sighing. 

     “I know,” Keith replied. The room became quiet for a few seconds, although that was broken by another crash of thunder.

     “So then, let’s just… talk.” Lance decided to lie back down on the couch, and he turned to his side. “You must have been practicing since the afternoon. Your hands were all red.”

     “Well,” Keith rubbed the back of his neck, “Actually, I was practicing since the morning.”

     Lance was confused. “The morning? It was raining all morning! Why are your clothes not wet?”

     “They were for a while, but I practiced inside for hours, so they dried up. After the rain stopped, I did go outside.”

     “Wait, why were you practicing all day? You got so tired you fell asleep! And I’m sure your head hurts like hell.”

     “I wanted to get better faster. Practice makes perfect, right? But I just can’t seem to get the hold of everything. I don’t know if it’s that I’m not trying hard enough, but I can’t seem to be able to write a single lyric of my own that doesn’t sound terrible! I can’t do it.”

     Lance sat up. “No, no Keith. You can’t force yourself to be better. Of course you need practice, but you need to allow your words to come naturally. There’s no better way of writing than writing something that you actually feel, whether that’s a positive or negative feeling. You can’t just… force yourself.”

     “I don’t get it… how do you stay so calm about this? How do you do this simple thing so… well?”

     “It’s easy,” Lance’s expression got softer. “I let the music come to me. I pursue… emotions… and write about that. And when I feel it, I can write about it. It’s easier said than done. Right now, you’re a little high-strung. However, you’ll get the hang of it someday.”

     “Really?”

     “Yeah.” Lance became tense. His heart became stiff, and he got chills as he noticed that the thunder and lightning has seized for a while, although the rain was still pattering on the rooftop. “You know, I use things to help me find the right lyrics, such as experiences, nature, and etcetera.”

     “Right.”

     “Although, recently, my music has been finding things  _ for me _ , the opposite of what I’ve been doing. It’s a new experience.”

     “That’s good, yeah?”

     “Yeah. Lately, I’ve been really falling in love…”

     “In love?”

     “…with my music.”

     “Oh. Me, too.”

     Lance tensed up slightly. “And because of that love of music, I’ve ended up falling for something  else.” He shook his head. “Well, not something, but  _ somebody _ , and not  _ in love _ per se, more like a romantic kinda thing- I mean, I love them as a friend and everything but- ah, this didn’t go as smoothly as I-“

     Keith laughed. “Like, you’re interested in somebody? Who?”

     Lance frowned slightly. “You don’t… know who?”

     “Obviously not.” Keith’s expression was fully blank as he said that. 

     Lance glared and laughed nervously. “Um, hint, he plays music with me every day! He’s been in the shack a lot before.”

     “How many people have you allowed into the shack?” Keith asked, cocking his head to the side slightly in utter confusion.

     “I’m telling  _ you,  _ I’m with  _ you  _ right now, can’t you fill in the blanks?” He stressed ‘you’ in both sentences patently.

     “I’m not good at guessing, Lance.”

     His obliviousness was far too cloudy for Lance to diffuse. He brought his fingers to his temples in thought, glaring. He got up off of his couch, and moved in front of the one where Keith was sitting at. He decided that before his mind had the chance to make him too nervous, he’d say what was on his mind. “Keith, you’re so dumb.”

     “I’m wh-“

     “Can I kiss you already?” It slipped.

     “You’re so rude. Here I come for comfort-“  Keith processed what was being said to him. “ _ Wait, what?”  _

     “May I kiss you, you blind idiot?” Lance stared at him in determination.

     Keith went rigid, his hands shook and his eyes widened as his face was plastered in veritable surprise. Keith was sitting silently, unmoving, and a little overwhelmed. Finally, after a few minutes of processing, he spoke. “Um, wait, hold on. Kiss me? This was unexpected. I mean, yes, you may, but that’s not what I was planning on today. I mean, not that that’s a bad thing but yes, you can, I just had no Idea! Not that I didn’t feel the same-” He was speaking so quickly that he couldn’t move his mouth fast enough to articulate some of the words.

     Lance, through Keith’s babbling, moved much closer to Keith’s face. His hand curled and reached under Keith’s chin, and lightly, using only the tip of his thumb, he pulled Keith’s face up so their eyes met. Lance leaned in slowly, and Keith clenched his eyes shut, tensely, but determined. Lance lined his lips up with Keith’s, and leaned closer, in a kiss. Their lips moved slowly, softly, imprecise. Nothing but the sound of rain trickling above them.

     Keith pulled away first, immediately covering his mouth. His face was red, and although a part of his expression was from embarrassment, another was of disbelief. With his head turning and his heart beating, all he could stutter out was a squeaky “Oh my god.”

     Lance chuckled a bit, and leaned back down, his knees hitting the floor. He smiled and looked at Keith. “You’re terrible.”

     Keith sat straight up. “What?” he said, now worrying.

     “But-” Lance held the word out, “I still like you!”

     “What do you mean terrible? It’s not my fault; I’ve never kissed a boy- or anyone before!” He looked down at his knees. “I haven’t had the time…”

     “I’m kidding!” Lance said. “I mean, it was pretty bad, but it was… nice.”

     Keith pouted, and mumbled, “You ruined the moment.”

     Lance laughed at him. “You ruined it first! Either way, we can work on  _ that  _ later.” He leaned over and pecked Keith on the cheek. “Right now, there are more important matters to attend to. Like, the fact that the thunder stopped, and rain is Mother Nature’s  _ greatest _ symphony.”

     Keith smirked. “You got your guitar?”

     “Ukulele will do just fine. Let’s get your guitar.” Lance went to the back of the room, and brought Keith his instrument, before sitting down with his own.

     “So, this means we’re dating, right?” Keith asked sincerely, looking over to lance pleadingly.

     “What? I-“ He sighed. “Yes, we are. That was the whole point.”

     “Okay, good.”

     At the tip of a small town, near the edge of the woods, two boys sat in a wooden shack, playing music, and loving life. A Ukulele and a guitar played beautiful music, signifying a whole new experience. 

     Lance was happy, amazed, and feeling good in a whole new way, and had what he currently needed to satisfy his emotions. Keith felt similar, although his feelings were newer, fresher, and more significant. Keith believed that, in many cases, music was Lance’s way of getting his heart to shine, more elegantly and brightly than any other time.

     And Lance believed that, maybe one day, and with a little bit of mental and emotional work, Keith would play beautifully again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! To be honest, I wrote this fic so long ago I don't even remember when I first typed it out on my keyboard. I decided to post it because, well, why the hell not! My lovely friend Bee gave me the idea for this AU. Hope that anybody who read this enjoyed it!


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